For Fuck's Sake, Prowl!
by Bomani Akila Neteru
Summary: Jazz may turn the lesbians straight. But Prowl turns straight men gay. One sided OMC/Prowl. Sequel to Gawddammit Jazz!


The police station was bustling. As was per usual, Alton supposed, but today, the thought made him grumpy. The day had _not_ gone well so far. Being a young officer, new to the force, his boss wasn't necessarily fond of him, despite the fact that he had worked _hard_ to earn his place among the law enforcement ranks. This meant that, at every turn, Alton's boss, Dale, was doing everything he could to give him a hard time.

Today being paperwork duty. Specifically, sorting through reports.

While Alton didn't necessarily _dislike_ paperwork- in fact he enjoyed nearly every aspect of his job- he had been doing said paperwork since four o'clock that morning, and he wasn't even halfway through it. It didn't help that coffee had been split on him via a clumsy colleague, things had been knocked off his desk roughly, and there had been a disturbance where one of the suspects brought in had attempted to flee and nearly tackled him to the ground in his attempt.

Even good natured Alton was nearly at the end of his rope and about ready to just head home for the day.

Paperwork could be done at home, right?

Alton slumped down in his seat as he moved on to the next report. To be honest, sorting through reports wasn't even _difficult_. It was just tedious. Very, very tedious. He scowled deeply at his screen before taking a deep breath and schooling his features. A good officer never let his emotions influence his work; it could lead to mistakes, after all. What better way to practice that then during a time like this? Right?

Somehow, that didn't really motivate him. Regardless, Alton kept his stone face in place, his fingers continued to fly over the keys at a steady pace.

"Excuse me." The quiet, light voice had Alton stopping mid sentence on the computer. He frowned. Surely someone wasn't speaking to _him_. He was in the back of the room, away from the front desk. No one spoke to him during the day unless it was his boss or his partner. Usually, anyway. Thoroughly confused, Alton raised his head, pushing up his square, black, metal framed glasses as he did so.

And stopped short.

The person that stood before his desk had his brain scrambling and falling to pieces. Delicate, feminine features framed by dark, slightly curly, short hair, paired with equally dark eyes- lord his dark _blue_ eyes- and a small, polite, apologetic smile. His heart thudded in his chest sharply, and Alton suddenly felt lightheaded. Somewhere in his now fogged mental perception, he remembered his manners,

"Yes?"

"I am officer Prowl, looking to speak to Mr. Vince Dale? Perhaps you could direct me to his office Mr.-?" Officer Prowl trailed off,

"Officer Alton Mitch, at your service." Alton hurriedly stood up at his desk, nearly knocking his phone off for what would have been the second time that day, "Yes, Mr. Dale's office is just this way." Scooting around his desk, Alton was quick to show the way to his boss's work station.

On the way there, he found himself sneaking small peaks at the handsome stranger that walked next to him.

Alton was certain he wasn't from around here. No, the officer knew nearly everyone in town, and he would definitely remember a face like _that_. From what Alton could put together, Prowl was probably either from a town farther out, or, more likely, a big city.

Furthermore, where Alton had first thought Prowl to be a young woman with a deeper voice, he found himself corrected.

While Prowl carried the delicate features of a female, and even seemed to portray more than a few qualities pointing in that direction- a few key physical features did not. Prowl's chest was flat. Then there was the distinct way he carried himself and walked. Women didn't walk that way. Not normally.

Alton would know; he was straight.

Although, Prowl was changing that fact. Rapidly.

Shaking the thoughts free from his mind, Alton opened the door to his boss's office, let Prowl go first, and then followed through, making certain to shut the door behind him. Unfortunately, Mr. Dale was on the phone, and in what sounded like a very heated argument. He didn't even look up at them, instead snapping into the phone that 'that wasn't good enough' or something along those lines.

Alton thought that perhaps Prowl would demand Dale's attention, but instead, the dainty man waited patiently, his dark blue eyes trained on Alton's boss like a pair of lasers, his posture perfect.

A little creepy, Alton wasn't going to lie. The thought of those eyes trained on him however- made a shiver crawl down his spine.

Good god, this man just wasn't human, was he? No, that was silly to think. Still, Alton couldn't remember the last time he'd been this wound up. Not even Mia, the woman he had thought about marrying, had ever made his heart race like this, or his face heat up like Prowl had.

Just who was Prowl? Curiosity, Alton's biggest flaw- or so he believed- reared it's head.

At last, Dale hung up the phone and looked up at them, folding his hands on his desk in front of them.

"Can I help you?" The old officer was quick to snap, but Prowl appeared unfazed,

"I was sent to collect the documentation requested." Delicate though he looked, Prowl's voice was far from it. He exuded a sudden air that had even Dale leaning back in his seat a bit, and Alton found his fingers twitching. Prowl meant business, and it made him feel the need to be… productive.

How strange.

"Right. From N.E.S.T. or whatever." Dale waved a hand before beginning to search through his desk drawers, "I gathered them up for you this morning and had them right over here. Gimme a second." he grunted. Prowl looked stern, and yet, at the same time, at ease. Folding his hands behind his lower back, he watched the old police chief rummage around.

After a moment he pulled out a set of manilla folders with a triumphant noise before holding them out to Prowl,

"Here you are." Dale huffed, "All the reports that were asked for. You'll find everything in order, I trust?"

Prowl took the paperwork from Dale delicately before flicking it open and skirting through every paper with far more elegance and speed than even the most efficient officer was capable of. Within a mere five or so seconds, he had checked through all of the folder's contents and proceeded to flick it shut.

"Thank you. You are sure this is everything?"  
"Very. We checked three damn times." Dale scoffed,

"Good. Then I will be on my way." Prowl was short and to the point, nearly curt in his dealings with his fellow officer.

Alton wondered if this pleased or bothered the old chief. It was hard to tell sometimes with him.

"Alright. Alton!" Dale barked, causing the young officer to nearly have a heart attack,

"Y-Yes sir?" Alton redirected his attention to his superior,

"See Mr.-?" Dale raised an eyebrow at Prowl,

"Prowl."

"See Mr. Prowl out the door." The chief waved a hand, clearly dismissing them.

"Yes sir." Alton opened the door and stepped to the side, "Right this way please." he tried to remain courteous and polite.

Together, he and Officer Prowl left Dale's office to the sound of the chief muttering something about 'new age hippy names'. Something he had muttered about Alton's name as well.

Alton had done his best not to let it get to him.

The entire time Alton had been leading Prowl around, the strange man had never once spared a glance anywhere besides the direction of his destination. He seemed focused and nearly… well… tunnel visioned. And the way to the front door was no different. Prowl looked neither right, nor left, and instead seemed to hone in on the glass front door. He didn't even look at Alton.

A fact Alton swore didn't bother him. It didn't, really it didn't. He didn't even know Prowl.

Besides, he was straight. _Straight_.

...So why wasn't that sticking? Because he was still very much attracted to the other man.

Alton was borderline sorrowful to see Prowl go, even as he opened the door for him and watched him traverse down the first two steps, towards an unfamiliar police cruiser.

And then, Prowl surprised him, yet again. He stopped, seemed to contemplate something, and looked back at the young officer. A light breeze brushed soft, chocolate brown curls aside, and heat rushed to Alton's face. Prowl was, most certainly, too angelic to be human. It was official. _No one_ looked that good; Alton didn't care _what_ bullshit excuse you came up with.

"If you find yourself swamped with work, and stressed because of coworkers or your boss… give me a call. You will find my number on your desk." Prowl informed him, and Alton gaped, frozen in place, his face flaming red.

"Wh- wha- why- I mean-?" Alton stumbled and stuttered, feeling like an idiot. Thankfully, Prowl seemed to understand,

"You remind me of myself when I was young." With that, he turned, and headed down the rest of the steps before swinging himself into his vehicle.

And Alton was most certainly _not_ staring at his mouth watering ass the entire way. Nope, not at all.

The young officer watched as Prowl drove off in his cruiser. A silver, sleek, expensive looking car quickly pulled out of a parking spot and zipped after him.

Feeling like every brain cell in his head had just died, Alton turned and stumbled his happy ass back to his desk before collapsing into his seat. Reports? Fuck reports. Grinning giddily, he instantly spotted the unfamiliar, bright yellow post-it-note with a sequence of numbers on it and Prowl's name beneath it in neat, elegant, perfect cursive.

Alton was quick to pick it up and tuck it into his shirt's front pocket. Was it bad of him to consider calling Prowl that evening instead of going to dinner with Mia? There was just something about Prowl that made him want to drop everything else, or work so many times harder to garner his attention.

Alton chuckled at his day's turnabout before finally getting back to work.

XxX

Prowl tried to ignore the cackling that came over his com. link system as he navigated the highway.

"Jazz, I fail to see what you find so amusing." He was getting tired of it,

"Prowler! Yer a damn hypocrite!" The saboteur wheezed with laughter,

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Prowl found himself honestly confused.

"For fuck's sake, Prowl! Quit turning the straights gay!"


End file.
